


folding stars

by nightswatch



Series: six feet under the stars [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire come back to New York after their road trip.</p><p>(I highly recommend reading Part 1 of this series first because otherwise a lot of things won't make sense)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Grantaire stood at the curb and waved until he couldn’t see Enjolras’ car anymore. He’d told him a billion times that he didn’t have to take him to his apartment, that a subway station would be enough, any subway station, really, he didn’t mind, Enjolras had taken him far enough. He’d insisted, though, so here he was.

He slowly walked up the stairs to his small studio apartment and threw his backpack on the sofa. Everything still looked the same, only the chunks of dust on the floor were a bit bigger and for once there were no dishes piling up in the sink, even his pot plant was still alive, which reminded him that he’d have to pick up his spare key some day or another.

His neighbor was an absolute angel and had offered to take care of it while he was gone. He’d met her on the way home from NYU, she went there, too, did film studies or photography or something like that, she ran around with a camera an awful lot, and they’d realized that they lived in the same building. Her dad owned it, apparently, he’d never actually met him, and was glad about it, to be honest, he’d heard he was quite strict about house rules and the like, so it was probably a good thing that he’d never felt the need to knock on Grantaire’s door.

It was weird to be back. And to be alone.

He started unpacking all his things, carefully put all of his souvenirs on the shelf by his small TV and plugged his phone in to charge. Just in case Enjolras called. He’d scribbled his number on a scrap of paper and had handed it to Enjolras before he’d got out of the car. Of course he didn’t expect him to call that soon, he needed to unpack, too, and he probably had work to do and so on and so on.

Grantaire then sifted through the cupboards of his little kitchenette, trying to find something edible and came across some ramen noodles, which surprisingly weren’t out of date. While they were cooking, he looked through the pictures he’d taken during their trip. There were tons he’d taken in Los Angeles, Enjolras sitting next to some indistinguishable star on the Walk of Fame, Enjolras in their hotel bed, smiling at the camera, but still half asleep, both of them at the Universal studios, Grantaire kissing Enjolras’ cheek.

It had taken a lot of effort to convince Enjolras to come to the Universal Studios. At the end of the day he’d said it was _okay_ , but Grantaire still was absolutely sure that he’d loved it and just didn’t want to admit it. He was so busy flicking through the pictures, he nearly forgot about his noodles.

It wasn’t the greatest dinner he’d ever had, but it was better than stale pop tarts in any case. He’d have to go grocery shopping. Soon. He’d also have to figure out how to last the rest of the summer with whatever money he had left until he’d get his job at the cinema back. They’d found someone to cover his shifts, probably some poor high school student, and they’d agreed that he could resume working there once summer break was over. He hadn’t been quite sure how long he’d be gone and he’d been very much in favor of that agreement.

But now he’d probably have to eat ramen noodles for the rest of the summer. Maybe pizza every now and then as a treat.

Grantaire let his empty bowl clatter into the sink, just now realizing that he’d have to do the dishes again, sighed deeply, and then shuffled straight to his bed, kicked his jeans off on the way and nearly fell over his guitar case and a box full of art supplies.

He groaned as he fell into bed and coughed as a cloud of dust rose up around him.

It wasn’t even dark outside yet, but he fell asleep almost instantly. He didn’t sleep well, woke up in the middle of the night, a bit confused because Enjolras wasn’t lying next to him, because the other side of his bed was cold.

He hugged one of his pillows then, wishing he had Enjolras’ number, not that now would be a good time to call him, but he hated waiting and that was exactly what he’d have to do. Maybe he wouldn’t call. He hated himself for even thinking that, of course he would call, he’d promised. Enjolras was someone who kept his promises, Grantaire was sure.

Or at least as sure as you can be at four in the morning when your brain decides to think something as stupid as that.

He woke up to his phone ringing on the other side of the room, scrambled out of bed, almost fell flat on his face because his foot caught in his sheets, stubbed his toes on his guitar case and was pretty breathless by the time he answered. “Hello?”

“Did you run to the phone?” He could hear the amusement in Enjolras’ voice.

“Yeah, and I nearly died on the way,” he muttered.

“That would have been… unfortunate,” Enjolras said. He sounded nervous.

Grantaire smiled. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Listen,” Enjolras started, “I just wanted to-“ Grantaire could hear Enjolras curse under his breath when something clattered to the floor.

“Yeah?” Grantaire unplugged his charger and walked back to his bed, phone at his ear.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ll be pretty busy the next couple of days, but maybe we could go have dinner on Saturday, I know a really nice café, or I could come to Brooklyn to see you, or something else, I don’t know, what do you want to do?” Enjolras sounded a little breathless at the end of it. “Wait a second, sorry Grantaire,” he said then. “’Ferre, I’ll look at it in a minute, okay?” Someone mumbled something in the background, then, “Grantaire?”

“Hm?” Grantaire leaned back against the pillows. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since he’d last seen Enjolras, but he didn’t think he could wait until Saturday. He didn’t seem to have a choice, though.

“Saturday?”

“Right, yeah, text me the address of that café and I’ll be there at seven.”

“Good, I’ll do that,” Enjolras said. “Um, I sort of have a thing I need to get back to, but-“

“It’s okay,” Grantaire cut in, “just go, I’ll see you on Saturday.”

They said goodbye and Grantaire buried his face in his pillow. It was Wednesday. He could make it until Saturday. Enjolras was probably glad that he had a little break from their constant bickering and his singing and him not being able to get out of bed in the morning.

Grantaire eventually got up after he’d slept for another hour, took a shower, went grocery shopping and came back with enough ramen noodles to last him a month, amongst other things. He then started cleaning his apartment, not too happy with that task, and was glad to stop when he remembered that he still had to pick up his spare key.

He walked across the hallway to apartment 3B and knocked, hoping someone would be home. The door opened and Cosette looked at him, still wearing pajamas, a bowl of cereal in her hand and a wide smile on her face. Apparently Grantaire wasn’t the only one who had trouble getting up in the morning.

“Grantaire, you’re back!,” she said excitedly.

“I am, thanks for keeping my plant alive,” Grantaire said, grinning down at her. Cosette was probably the tiniest person he’d ever met.

She took him by the hand and pulled him into her apartment. It was a bit bigger than Grantaire’s, and also a bit tidier and nicely decorated. “You’re welcome,” she said, handed him the key he’d left with her and dragged him over to the couch. “So, did you make it to Chicago?”

 “Yeah, and after that I made it to Los Angeles.”

Cosette’s eyes grew wide. “Oh my god, I thought you may have founded a band in Chicago and that you’d never come back, but hey, Los Angeles sounds good, too. That explains why you’ve been gone for about ten years.”

“Sorry, I should have called. But yeah, it was really good,” Grantaire said. It had mostly been good because of Enjolras, though. He could have taken him to Nebraska and he would have loved it. “What did you do? Spend some quality time with my plant?”

“Yes, obviously,” she said, smiling, “and I met a guy.”

“Ohh, a guy, tell me more.” If there was one person on this planet who deserved _a guy_ it was Cosette.

“Well, my dad took me to one of his charity events a couple of weeks ago and he was there and he was lovely and I gave him my number. It took him about a week to call me.” Cosette laughed and stirred her cereal instead of eating it. “We went out a couple of times and surprisingly he’s still lovely and not a complete ass.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Grantaire said, “I met a guy, too, by the way.”

“In California?,” Cosette asked, grimacing when she ate a spoon full of cereal. Her stirring probably hadn’t improved the taste.

“Well, actually on the way there. We sort of went together.” He tried to tell her the whole story, as weird as it was, and at the end of it her mouth was hanging open a bit.

“You hitchhiked to California with some random dude, hooked up with him and he happens to be from New York, too? You are one lucky guy.”

Grantaire nodded. He sure was. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

“We’re having dinner on Saturday.”

“Dinner, huh? So, you’re really properly dating?”

“I’m not sure.” Maybe that was a question that he should ask Enjolras at some point.

Cosette smiled at him. “Well, in any case, good luck and bring a picture of the guy the next time you come over.”

Grantaire promised he would, then said goodbye to Cosette and went back to his own place to continue cleaning up. He checked his phone, found that Enjolras had sent him the address of the café he’d been talking about and Grantaire somehow ended up checking his phone every fifteen minutes from then on, not even sure what he was expecting, because Enjolras had said he was busy.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey I promised I'd continue this, so here you go!  
> (I have no idea where this is going)


	2. Chapter 2

He was going to die. That was the only way that evening could end. With his death.

His knees felt a bit too wobbly and his palms were sweaty, actually not only his palms, it was the end of July, it was hot, yes, but this was just ridiculous.

He was over half an hour early, because he’d been scared that he wouldn’t find that stupid café, had changed his clothes about fourteen times before he’d left, not that he’d been counting or anything, had then annoyed Cosette for a while, babbling all sorts of nonsense, until he’d decided to leave.

The café Musain hadn’t been exactly hard to find, and now he was pacing up and down the street, kept his eyes peeled for Enjolras, never wandering too far, peeking inside  the café every now and then. The people inside probably thought he was crazy. Which was true.

Grantaire felt so nervous and he couldn’t even tell why, he already knew Enjolras, but this somehow felt like a first date. He kept checking the time, minutes crept by, feeling like hours.

Enjolras came around the corner then, punctual to the minute, a broad smile appearing on his face the second he saw Grantaire. “You’re here,” he said, a bit surprised. He looked tired. Like he hadn’t slept since they’d come home.

“I am,” Grantaire agreed, “I wasn’t sure if I’d find it.”

Enjolras smiled, still, and Grantaire wanted to pull him closer and kiss him, bury his fingers in his hair, he didn’t care much about dinner, but he wasn’t quite sure how Enjolras would feel about that, so he kissed him on the cheek instead.

“Do you want to go inside?,” Enjolras asked. Grantaire was strangle pleased to find that Enjolras sounded about as nervous as he felt.

“Yeah, sure.” His voice was embarrassingly high. “I mean, is there an alternative?”

“We could go back to my place. If you’re not hungry. Or we can go somewhere else. Whatever you want.”

Grantaire had been kidding, but now the thought of just going to Enjolras’ apartment seemed quite appealing. He wasn’t feeling too strongly about food at the moment anyway. “Sure, we can go to your place.”

“Let’s do that then,” Enjolras said and tentatively grasped Grantaire’s hand. “It’s not too far from here, just two blocks.”

Grantaire smiled at him, still a bit worried about his sweaty palms, but Enjolras simply dragged him along, mainly past apartment buildings.

“So,” Grantaire started, “did you have a lot of work to catch up on?”

“Tons,” Enjolras replied, sighing. “Combeferre and I are trying to get through it all as quickly as possible, he was in Paris until about two weeks ago, so he missed a few meetings, too.”

“They had meetings without you? Aren’t you their mighty leader or something?” He didn’t want to make fun of what Enjolras did, because he actually believed in change and all that, sometimes he just couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, they did, and no, I’m not.” He paused for a second. “Maybe I am in a way.”

Grantaire snorted. But actually he would have very much liked to sit in on one of those meetings, just to hear him talk. He got quite passionate at times, especially when Grantaire had talked against his ideals. And exactly because of that, because Grantaire wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, Enjolras wouldn’t want him to come, he was pretty sure about that.

“How’s Brooklyn?,” Enjolras asked then.

“Fine, I spent the last couple of days eating ramen noodles and listening to my neighbor gush about her new guy, it was hilarious.” He’d actually seen him stumble out of Cosette’s apartment one morning and he’d seemed nice enough, but really nervous. Cosette had later told him that he was scared that he’d come across her dad at some point.

He’d also cleaned his whole apartment, not that there was much space to clean, had done his laundry and had tried to paint Enjolras. Each of his tries had ended up torn in the trash.

“Sounds a lot more enjoyable than going through transcripts of meetings. Courfeyrac has horrible handwriting and he likes to leave sentences unfinished and inserts dirty jokes.”

“Man, I think I like that guy.”

“Yeah, you would.”

He was wondering if he’d ever get to meet Enjolras’ friends, he’d sure like to, but he’d leave that up to him to decide if or when that was going to happen.

Enjolras led him up the stairs of an apartment building that seemed a little too nice for students to live in, but Grantaire didn’t ask. He would, at some point, Enjolras had never talked much about his family, but neither had Grantaire. The only time he’d mentioned them had been in Texas, or wherever they had been, sitting in a field and looking at the stars, where he’d been so far away from it all that it hadn’t been a problem to speak of them.

“I don’t think Combeferre is home,” Enjolras mumbled as he pushed the door open.

His apartment was neat, but Grantaire immediately saw a desk littered with papers and folders, and Enjolras, following his gaze, let out a huff and, without a word, pulled him into a kiss. It was nice, the way he kissed him, slowly, like they had all the time in the world, fingers gently cupping his cheek, his other hand pulling him closer.

It reminded him of the way he’d kissed him awake in the morning sometimes, when he’d been eager to leave, but Grantaire hadn’t been willing to cooperate and had tried to sleep until noon, something was different now, though.

Enjolras nuzzled at his neck, put his arms around him and then stilled. Grantaire could feel his warm breath ghosting over his skin, his eyelashes flutter, and let his hand run down his back slowly. Enjolras let out a content sigh as he did.

“Enjolras, just out of curiosity, when was the last time you slept?,” Grantaire asked quietly.

“Hm, last night,” Enjolras whispered.

“For how long?”

“Three hours, maybe four, I don’t know.”

Grantaire nearly laughed. “You need to go to bed,” he said resolutely. “Why didn’t you call me, we could have met some other day.” He wouldn’t have been too happy about it, sure, but he would have understood.

“No,” Enjolras protested weakly. “I wanted to see you.”

“So I could look at you while you were sleeping?”

“I’m still awake,” Enjolras said, his voice muffled by Grantaire’s shirt.

“Okay, yeah.” Grantaire slowly pushed him down the hall. “Where’s your room?”

“I’m not going to bed.” Enjolras sounded grumpy. “Unless you come with me,” he added, tugging at Grantaire’s shirt.

“I guess we can arrange that.” Enjolras had never been that good at saying what he wanted and Grantaire had been guessing a lot, taking his chances along the way, had just gone for it when Enjolras hadn’t.

They’d had a talk about that in LA, in their first night there, when they’d stayed at a cheap hotel where the air conditioning hadn’t worked and it had been too hot to sleep. It had started with Grantaire’s hands sneaking around Enjolras’ waist in the middle of the night, with getting lost in a heated kiss and a whispered _tell me what you want_ , and had ended with Enjolras on his hands and knees.

Grantaire smiled at the memory as he followed Enjolras into his bedroom. It wasn’t a hotel room, nothing like the rooms where they’d spent their nights together, but Grantaire immediately felt more relaxed, watched as Enjolras kicked off his shoes and his jeans, staring back at him, waiting for him to join him. Grantaire quickly took off his own shoes and went to sit next to Enjolras.

“Take those off,” Enjolras said and hooked a finger through one of the belt loops on Grantaire’s pants, tugging slightly.

“A bit bossy, are we?” Grantaire wiggled out of them anyway and let them fall to the floor.

Enjolras smiled at him, eyes fluttering shut when Grantaire put an arm around him. “You’re going to stay, right?”

“If you want me to.”

“Of course I do, that’s why I asked.”

Grantaire waited until Enjolras was sleeping soundly and then pried his hands off his shirt so he could sit up. He grabbed one of the books that were piled up next to Enjolras’ bed and started flicking through it, he was pretty sure Enjolras had to read it for one of his classes, it mainly dealt with republicanism as far as he could tell and he could hardly imagine anyone reading that for their own personal enrichment. Then again, Enjolras probably would.

He was tempted to draw mustaches or funny hats on the pictures in the book, that was what he’d done at school when his textbooks hadn’t been particularly interesting, but he was certain that Enjolras would cold-bloodedly murder him for that, so he took a pen and started doodling faces on sticky notes he found on the bedside table and stuck them onto the people in the book, imagining Enjolras’ face when he’d find them.

Eventually he grew bored and inspected the other books, and found a copy of _1984_ at the bottom of the pile. Definitely more intriguing. When it was starting to get darker, he switched on the lamp next to Enjolras’ bed, and Enjolras stirred next to him, but didn’t wake up.

Grantaire was more than halfway through the book when he started to get tired and put it down, then nearly got lost on his search for the bathroom, and finally lay back down next to Enjolras, who murmured something in his sleep and slid his arm around Grantaire.

This wasn’t exactly how Grantaire had imagined the evening to go, but he had secretly been hoping that he wouldn’t have to take the subway home afterwards, that he’d get to stay with Enjolras, so he was definitely content with the outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad that you're all so happy that I'm continuing this  
> (if there's anything you'd like to happen let me know and I'll think about it or something, no promises though)


	3. Chapter 3

Grantaire wasn’t even surprised when he found Enjolras gone the next morning. The other side of the bed was cold, so Enjolras must have gotten up a while ago. And sure, it wasn’t like he’d never woken up next to him, but everything felt so different now, this wasn’t some trip or some shitty hotel room, this was real, this was Enjolras’ room, his bed, his life, and Grantaire was right in the middle of it.

He slowly crawled out of bed once he’d reasoned with himself that Enjolras probably wouldn’t appear next to him no matter how hard he was wishing for it to happen, pulled his jeans back on and examined Enjolras’ room. Bookshelves lined the walls, a couple of photos were stuck to the wall, all of people Grantaire had never met, and, amidst the books and binders, there were souvenirs, most of them ones that Grantaire had bought and given to Enjolras later on.

Everything was incredibly neat, even his closet, and Grantaire was pretty sure that his own apartment had never, not even for one second, looked this tidy, not even when he’d just moved in. It was like he left a trail of chaos in his wake wherever he went.

He walked down the hall and into the small kitchen, encountering not Enjolras, but his roommate, leaning against the counter, coffee in one hand, the morning paper in the other. He didn’t seem surprised to find a stranger creeping around their apartment, so Enjolras must have told him he was here.

“You’re not Enjolras,” Grantaire mumbled, tempted to turn around and crawl back into Enjolras’ bed again. Obviously he wanted to meet Enjolras’ friends, but at the same time he was absolutely terrified that they would hate him.

“Indeed, I’m not,” he said, his gaze wandering from Grantaire’s messy hair down to his bare feet, his expression betraying no emotion. He must be a fantastic poker player. “You must be Grantaire.”

Grantaire nodded and stepped forward to shake the guy’s hand. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Combeferre,” he said, now smiling at him, not unkindly, but maybe a little warily. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Grantaire muttered, even though Enjolras hadn’t told him much about Combeferre, only that he was his best friend and that they’d known each other _forever_ , which may or may not have been an exaggeration.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Combeferre asked, already on his way to the fridge, “Are eggs and bacon okay?”

“Yeah, sure, I can do that, by the way,” Grantaire said and went to take the egg carton from Combeferre, who only shook his head. “You really don’t have to breakfast for me,” Grantaire insisted.

“Don’t worry about it,” Combeferre said lightly, “I like to cook. There’s orange juice in the fridge, and we also have coffee, tell me if you need help with the coffee machine.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire said, a little less nervous now that Combeferre hadn’t turned out to be some ass who couldn’t stand him. He got himself some orange juice, embarrassed himself only a little when he couldn’t find the cups right away and was soon engaged in a conversation about Combeferre’s recent trip to Paris.

Grantaire barely even noticed when Enjolras walked into the kitchen. “You’ve met,” Enjolras said, looking at the two of them, chatting amiably like they’d known each other for years.

“We have,” Combeferre confirmed and shoveled Grantaire’s breakfast onto a plate. “We also haven’t tried to kill each other yet, I suppose that’s a relief to you,” he added with a wink at Grantaire.

“Yeah, I like him, he made me breakfast,” Grantaire added when Combeferre handed his plate over.

“He’s also letting you drink his orange juice,” Enjolras said, glancing at the cup in Grantaire’s hand.

Combeferre sighed and waved his hand impatiently, like this was some old discussion he didn’t want picked up again.

“Come on,” Enjolras said to Grantaire and pulled him out of the kitchen and into their living room.

“Thanks for the food, Combeferre,” Grantaire yelled as Enjolras dragged him away.

They settled on the couch, Grantaire eating his breakfast, Enjolras now reading the paper Combeferre had been reading before. Grantaire watched him when he was done eating his breakfast, loved the look of concentration on Enjolras’ face, knowing that he could turn that look into something else entirely within second if he only got the chance.

Enjolras caught him staring after a while, put his paper down, took the plate from Grantaire to put it on the table and leaned in to kiss him.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire muttered against his lips, “I haven’t even brushed my teeth.”

“Hm,” was all he got for an answer and Enjolras’ lips were on his again, teeth grazing his bottom lip, and Grantaire shivered.

“We have a rule about the couch, you know,” Combeferre said as he walked into the living room, at which Enjolras pulled away.

“Sorry,” Enjolras muttered, grinning at him apologetically, and pulled Grantaire off the couch. “Leave that there,” he added when Grantaire reached for his empty plate.

Enjolras dug up an unused toothbrush for him after all and then led Grantaire back into his room.

“So, what’s the couch rule,” Grantaire asked between kisses. Enjolras had him pinned against the closed door and was somewhat distracted by Grantaire, who let his fingers slide under Enjolras’ shirt, deliberately slow at it, let them wander up his spine and back down again, relishing the soft moans he was eliciting.

“No making out on the couch,” Enjolras answered breathlessly and whined when Grantaire tugged at his hair, “or in the living room in general.”

Grantaire hummed and gently pushed Enjolras towards the bed. “I actually made up that rule because I once caught him on the couch with his girlfriend and I really wanted to watch the Daily Show,” Enjolras was saying when he hit his bed with the back of his legs and toppled over, Grantaire following suit, only a little more elegantly maybe.

“I see,” Grantaire whispered against the soft skin of Enjolras’ stomach, pushed his shirt up, kissing his way up until Enjolras pulled him back up and flipped them over.

Grantaire let out a surprised huff, but didn’t otherwise complain when Enjolras’ fingers started fiddling with the button of his jeans, even though it seemed that Enjolras didn’t mind taking his sweet time with it.

“You’re a fucking tease, have I ever told you that?” Grantaire grumbled. Within seconds Enjolras’ hand was gone and Grantaire was about to complain, but then Enjolras ground their hips together and his complain quickly turned into a moan.

Grantaire was just about to busy himself with getting rid of Enjolras’ clothes, first of all his shirt, when there was a knock on the door.

Enjolras grumbled a curse, but climbed off Grantaire anyway. “What?”

“Can I come in?” Combeferre’s voice came from outside the door.

“If you have to,” Enjolras answered and tugged his shirt down.

Combeferre poked his head inside, his smile growing into a broad grin when he found Enjolras and Grantaire sitting next to each other on the bed, trying to look like they hadn’t been all over each other less than a minute ago.

Grantaire only had to cast a swift glance at Enjolras’ hair to know that they weren’t fooling anyone.

“Courfeyrac asks if you want to meet up tonight, just to hang out, no planning, no scheming, his words not mine,” Combeferre said, completely unfazed by the way Grantaire tried to not so inconspicuously pull a pillow onto his lap.

“Sure, why not.” Enjolras tried to run his fingers through his hair but they got stuck in his tangled curls.

“You as in both of you,” Combeferre explained, with a pointed look at Grantaire.

“You don’t have to,” Enjolras said quickly. “I mean, _of course_ you don’t have to, what I’m trying to say is, if you’ve had enough of meeting my friends for one day, I’m okay with that.”

Grantaire couldn’t help but notice Combeferre’s amused expression. “No, I want to, that’s fine.”

“I’ll let Courfeyrac know,” Combeferre said and vanished again.

“You live alone, right?” Enjolras asked him once the door had closed.

Grantaire nodded. “Feel free to come over whenever you want.”

“I will,” Enjolras said, “I promise, I want to see your place and maybe your wonderful neighbor.”

Grantaire actually was more than a little surprised that Enjolras remembered Cosette, or at least her existence, since he was pretty sure that he’d only mention her once or maybe twice. “I’m sure she’ll be very happy to meet you.” And that was an understatement, Cosette would be fucking delighted. She’d probably bake a cake and then share embarrassing stories about him.

“Speaking of my place,” Grantaire said, “I should probably head home.”

“Yeah, in a bit,” Enjolras allowed and let himself fall back on the bed, insistently tugging at the hem of Grantaire’s shirt until he joined him.  “My friends are insane, by the way,” Enjolras said and snuggled against his side. “You’re probably going to regret that you got into my car.”

“Nothing could ever make me regret that I got into your car.”

Little did he know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm not even sure if anyone is even waiting for an update for this fic, but yeah, here you go)


	4. Chapter 4

Grantaire was sitting amidst a heap of clothes, trying to figure out what to wear, when there was a knock on his door. “Grantaire? Are you home?”

“Door is open,” he yelled back and picked up a gray shirt. No paint stains, but a giant tear.

Cosette bustled inside, a couple of dresses slung over her arm. When he’d first moved in she’d always scolded him for leaving his door unlocked, now she didn’t even bother anymore. “I’m so glad you’re back, now you can help me pick clothes for my dates again.”

“I thought you and mystery guy are already pretty serious?” Grantaire asked.

“You’re going to meet him soon, I promise.” Cosette threw her clothes on his beanbag. “And yes, we are pretty serious, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look absolutely fantastic when he takes me out for dinner tonight.”

“Maybe you should help me, too,” Grantaire muttered and picked up an especially paint-stained shirt.

“You can borrow one of my dresses if you want,” she said and started picking up the clothes that were spread on the floor all around Grantaire.

Grantaire made a face. “I don’t look good in dresses.”

“Have you tried?” Cosette asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Believe it or not, I have.” That was nothing he needed to discuss with Cosette, though. “Just randomly reach into my closet and pull out the next best thing.”

Cosette grinned and dived into his closet. “Didn’t you already go out on a date yesterday?”

“We did,” Grantaire said, “but I’m meeting his friends tonight.”

“Oh my god, that’s awesome,” Cosette turned around and beamed at him. “You know, I haven’t even met Marius’ roommate yet because he’s always at his boyfriend’s.” She unceremoniously threw a pair of jeans at him. “There. Are you nervous?”

“A little.” It was a bit of an understatement.

“You’ll be fine, they’re going to love you,” she said and threw a shirt right at his face.

Grantaire made a noncommittal noise. “Show me your dresses.”

“No.” Cosette sat down next to him and took his hand. He tried to pull it away, but she glared at him in a way that made him reconsider. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He really only had two options. Either he said nothing and they’d still be sitting here tomorrow, because Cosette wouldn’t let it go, or he could just tell her. He rolled his eyes. “I just don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You won’t. I told you, there’s no way they’re not going to like you.” She squeezed his hand. “But that’s not all, right?”

“Well, what I meant is that I don’t want to fuck this whole thing up. You know, with Enjolras? Because he’s basically the best thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life and you know how good I am at screwing things up, it’s just a matter of time until I screw this up as well, right?”

“Grantaire,” Cosette said quietly and let go of his hand, only so she could hug him tightly. “You won’t screw this up. You deserve to be happy, you understand me?” She hugged him even tighter when he didn’t answer. “Do you understand?”

“I do, I understand.” He chuckled and awkwardly patted her back. Cosette could be terrifying sometimes. “Please don’t squish me to death.”

She let go of him then and took a deep breath. “Listen, if that guy hurts you, you tell me. Then I’ll fuck _him_ up.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire mumbled. Not that it would ever happen, but he did appreciate the sentiment.

“Any time, darling.”

* * *

Grantaire nearly got lost on the way to Enjolras’ apartment, either because he was too nervous to remember the way or because he hadn’t  really paid attention the day before.

It was Combeferre who opened the door for him. “Nervous?” he asked without a greeting.

“Nope,” Grantaire said, shaking his head.

Combeferre grinned. He was apparently one of those people who weren’t fooled by anything or anyone. “There’s no need to be.”

Enjolras appeared next to Combeferre a few seconds later, smiling broadly. “Ready to go?”

“I’ll just get my wallet,” Combeferre muttered and left Grantaire alone with Enjolras.

“Now would be a good time to tell me if there’s anyone who’s very likely to hate me,” Grantaire whispered jokingly.

Enjolras seemed to hear the edge to his voice, though, because he leaned forward to kiss him briefly and took his hand. “No one’s going to hate you. Jehan and Courfeyrac might even want to adopt you.”

Combeferre and Enjolras took him to the café, where he’d met Enjolras the day before, only this time they actually went inside. Enjolras led the way to a backroom, which they found empty, save for the couches, armchairs and coffee tables the room was stuffed with. “Musichetta reserves the backroom for us when she knows we’re coming over,” Combeferre explained.

“She co-owns the café,” Enjolras chipped in, “together with Feuilly, who’s also a friend of ours.”

“And she’s going out with two of our other friends.”

“Two?” Grantaire repeated. Well, it wasn’t like Enjolras hadn’t warned him.

“It’s complicated,” Combeferre said, “I don’t pretend to understand what’s going on there.”

“Interesting.” Grantaire was about to sit down, when the door behind him swung open and a tall guy stumbled in.

He had strawberry blonde hair that tumbled loosely around his face and he was wearing a huge sweater, way too warm for summer, but he didn’t seem to care at all. “Grantaire, it’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” He had Grantaire wrapped in a hug before he knew what was happening.

He recognized Jehan from a picture Enjolras had shown him, but he also recognized his voice from when he’d once answered Enjolras’ phone on their way back to New York. “Hi, Jehan,” Grantaire muttered and hugged him back.

“Where’s Courf?” Enjolras asked.

“Yeah, we’re not used to seeing you without him attached to you somehow,” Combeferre said dryly.

“He’s on his way,” Jehan said and pulled Grantaire onto one of the couches with him. “Where’s Eponine?”

“She’s not coming.” Grantaire wouldn’t have noticed that there was something wrong, hadn’t it been for the way Enjolras looked at him when he said it.

“So, Grantaire,” Jehan said into the awkward silence that had followed, “you’re an art student, right?”

Grantaire ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Not a very good one, though.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s amazing,” Enjolras threw in. Grantaire rolled his eyes at him.

Jehan’s smile grew ever wider. “You have to show me some of your stuff sometime.”

Musichetta came to take their orders then, Feuilly came to say hello as well, but quickly vanished again, saying the kitchen needed him. The next one to arrive was Bahorel, who introduced himself by nearly crushing Grantaire’s hand when he shook it.

“The fact that you’re here proves that Enjolras is actually human.” Bahorel gave Enjolras a pat on the back that nearly sent him headfirst into his cappuccino.

“Grantaire!” The door had flown open again and Courfeyrac had barged in. Grantaire almost felt like he already knew all of these people, like they had been friends for years. Courfeyrac’s smile was contagious. “I’m so glad you came.” He squeezed himself in between him and Jehan, gave Jehan a kiss on his cheek and then threw an arm around Grantaire. “You’re even hotter in person.”

Grantaire thought he was going to die right there and then, a blush creeping onto his face, and Enjolras looked like he was about to bang his head against the wall. Or Courfeyrac’s head. Grantaire wasn’t entirely sure.

Jehan poked Courfeyrac in the ribs. “Stop it.”

“What took you so long?” Combeferre asked him to change the topic. Grantaire made a mental note to thank him later.

“We had a little emergency,” Courfeyrac said with a shrug.

Bahorel burst out laughing. “Oh, let me guess, you had to pick out clothes for Marius again?”

“It’s not his fault that he’s a bit challenged when it comes to clothing.” Courfeyrac grinned. “And he wanted to look nice for his date, who am I to deny him help when he needs it so sorely.”

Grantaire startled. “What did you say his name was?”

“Marius. Do you know him?”

“No, I don’t.” It might be a coincidence and nothing more. “What’s his girlfriend’s name?” he asked anyway.

“It’s Cosette, right?” Jehan asked Courfeyrac.

“Yeah, I’d tell you how lovely she is, but I’ve never met her. I feel like I have, though, Marius won’t shut up about her,” Courfeyrac said.

Grantaire snorted. “Well, _her_ I know.”

Bahorel was now howling with laughter. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I know, I mean what are the chances.”

“Oh my god, they should come and join us,” Courfeyrac said excitedly. He already had his phone in hand, but Jehan took it from him.

“Please let them have dinner first.”

“Fine,” Courfeyrac grumbled and turned his attention back to Grantaire. “Tell me about your life, tell me everything, tell me about how you guys ended up together, because Enjolras hasn’t really filled me in on the details.”

Grantaire shot Enjolras a helpless look, but he only smiled and shrugged. He couldn’t help him now. Grantaire was actually glad for the interruption when two new faces arrived. Joly and Bossuet both wandered in with drinks in hand, already a little tipsy, which indicated they’d already spent some time at the bar before they’d joined them.

Jehan finally allowed Courfeyrac to call Marius then, and Courfeyrac told him he had a friend of Cosette’s here who’d like to see her. After the phone call was done he clapped his hands together. “Right, I think it’s time for drinks.”

Grantaire took a deep breath. Everything had gone smoothly until now and he really didn’t want to mess everything up right now. Everyone was already shouting their orders at Courfeyrac, Grantaire kept quiet, hoping no one would notice.

“Hey, Grantaire, what do you want me to get you?”

Okay, that hadn’t worked very well. “Nothing for me, thanks.”

“I’ll pay,” Courfeyrac insisted. He’d already stumbled to his feet and was looking down at him expectantly.

“It’s fine, really,” Grantaire muttered. “I don’t drink.”

He was glad that everyone else around them seemed to be wrapped up in their own discussions. Jehan was talking to Bahorel, Combeferre was wrapped up in a discussion with Joly, Bossuet was listening intently.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought you-”

“Courf,” Enjolras cut in. It was all he said, and it was really all it took for Courfeyrac to leave as quickly as possible.

Enjolras came to sit beside him then, one hand draped protectively around his shoulders. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t think of that, I’m an idiot.”

“It’s fine,” Grantaire whispered back. But he didn’t feel fine, not at all. Usually this wasn’t a problem for him, people around him were drinking all the time, but his skin felt tingly and he was sure that if his hands weren’t clasped together so tightly they’d be shaking.

He leaned against Enjolras, hoping it would pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's actually more to this chapter, but I figured it'd be better to cut it here, so I don't have to keep you guys waiting even longer.


	5. Chapter 5

“Is everything okay?”

Grantaire shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I think I’ll just go outside for a minute.”

“Do you want me to come?” Enjolras didn’t sound worried, his tone was nothing but casual.

“No, you stay here, I’ll be right back.” Grantaire nearly fell over Jehan’s legs when he got up, whispered an apology, then made his way outside as fast as he could.

He felt better immediately, which was a bit of a problem, because now he really didn’t want to go back inside. He could hardly ask Enjolras to leave with him, though, so he’d have to eventually. He took a couple of deep breaths and was surprised when Combeferre came out through the door and leaned against the wall next to him.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked after a while. “Enjolras said you were fine, but Joly wanted someone to check on you, he said you were looking pale.”

Grantaire couldn’t help but smile. “I’m fine, I always look pale.” He eyed Combeferre. This was Enjolras’ best friend. “Enjolras told you, didn’t he? About the drinking?”

“He might have mentioned it,” Combeferre allowed. “He probably shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” Grantaire said quietly. Combeferre didn’t look like someone to easily judge people, but Grantaire still wondered what he thought about him now. “Do you…” He trailed off, not really sure how to ask. He sighed.

Combeferre squeezed his shoulder. “You can be very proud of yourself.”

It was pretty much a miracle that he didn’t start crying on the spot. He took a deep breath and looked at Enjolras’ friend. “That’s not how people usually react.”

“Well, I’m not a judgmental asshole,” Combeferre said nonchalantly.

Grantaire snorted. “Good to know.”

“We’re all really glad to have you here.” If he hadn’t wanted to hug Combeferre before, he definitely wanted to do it now.

“Enjolras was a bit of a loner, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” Combeferre mumbled. “He thinks his grades and his work are really important. Which they are, of course. Sometimes he just forgets that there are other things and I’m glad that you’re there to remind him of that.”

“So you don’t think this is all going to go horribly wrong?” Grantaire asked before he could stop himself.

Combeferre laughed. “Who knows.” He shuffled his feet and sighed. “You know, I’d usually be the first one to tell you that everything’s going to be fine, but…”

“But things aren’t going too great with your girlfriend and you’ve lost all hope?”

“Something like that.”

Grantaire tried for his most reassuring smile. “You’ll work it out. You look like someone who works things out.”

“Thanks,” he said with a chuckle. “Ready to go back inside?”

“Sure,” Grantaire muttered, staring at Combeferre, who was already walking back towards the entrance. “Wait, I’m not getting a threat from the best friend? Hurt him and I’ll kill you in your sleep or anything like that?”

Combeferre turned around, eyebrows raised. “I’m really not worried about you hurting him, Grantaire.”

Grantaire nodded. It wasn’t like that thought hadn’t occurred to him before, but hearing Combeferre say it was an entirely different thing.

The second Enjolras had pulled up next to him and offered him a ride had been the second he’d known that he’d fall hard. That this guy could break his heart into a billion pieces and he’d probably thank him for it if only he’d let him kiss him one single time. And now they were together and neither of them was going anywhere, except that Grantaire was almost expecting Enjolras to vanish from his life as quickly as he’d appeared in it.

He followed Combeferre back inside, his hands as steady as they could be. Enjolras smiled as he slid back onto the couch. “I got you some water,” he said and interlaced their fingers. “I hope Combeferre didn’t threaten to kill you,” he whispered, quietly enough so Combeferre wouldn’t hear.

Grantaire laughed. “No, he didn’t, but just to warn you, that’s something you’re in for with Cosette.”

“Looking forward to it,” Enjolras mumbled.

They were briefly distracted by Joly, who was laughing so hard at something Bahorel had told him that he almost fell off the armrest he was perched on. It didn’t cause as much of a commotion as the arrival of Marius and Cosette did, though.

Cosette introduced herself, then introduced Marius and Grantaire. Grantaire admired Cosette and the way she was with people, how easily she dealt with meeting a room full of strangers. Marius seemed to feel the same way, because he only watched her, completely in awe, and shook Grantaire’s hand with a stammered “Nice to meet you”. Grantaire decided that he liked him, he seemed nice enough.

Cosette ended up squeezing herself between Grantaire and Enjolras. “I’ve heard so much about you,” Cosette said to Enjolras. “Only good things so far,” she added and patted him on the thigh. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

Grantaire nearly laughed at Enjolras’ frightened expression. “I’ll make sure it does,” he said, trying to smile.

“Wonderful,” she chirped and turned to Grantaire. “I think this is weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. And a lot of weird things have happened to me, let me tell you that.”

“Please tell me how you met again, it was at some charity thing, right?”

“Well, he saw me at one of my father’s charity events, but he was too scared to talk to me then, but he somehow managed to find me afterwards.”

“Was that the one I was supposed to go to?” Enjolras asked. “Was Courfeyrac there?”

“I think he was,” Cosette answered, eyes darting to where Courfeyrac was sitting, talking to Combeferre.

“Just imagine,” Grantaire said, leaning forward so he could look at Enjolras, “if you’d gone back, they wouldn’t have met, because you would have gone to that thing instead of them.”

“So I basically owe all my happiness to you?” Cosette said to Enjolras, laughing happily.

“No, actually you owe it to Grantaire, he’s the reason I didn’t come back.”

“Oh, you,” Grantaire said jokingly, but gave Enjolras a fond smile anyway.

Cosette returned to Marius a while later and once the kitchen wasn’t as busy anymore Feuilly joined them in the backroom for a while.

“Do you want to leave soon?” Grantaire whispered to Enjolras.

“Are we going to your place?” Enjolras whispered back to him and planted a kiss behind his ear.

Grantaire suppressed a shiver. “If you want to.”

Before they could leave, Cosette made her way over to Enjolras. Grantaire waited next to the door, watching as they talked. He waved at everyone when they left, got a hug from Jehan and another one from Courfeyrac, and then took Enjolras by the hand as they went to the subway station.

“Cosette is terrifying,” Enjolras said as they walked down the steps.

“Tell me about it.” Grantaire squeezed his hand. “What did she say?” He could imagine, actually, but he still wanted to hear it from Enjolras.

“That she won’t hesitate to hurt me if I break your heart.”

Grantaire laughed. “Don’t worry, she won’t.”

“I told her she wouldn’t have to.”

It sounded almost too good to be true.

He took Enjolras home, kissing him impatiently on the subway. They almost ran the way from the station to his place. Grantaire hardly gave Enjolras time to look around when they stumbled into his messy apartment, he saw his gaze flicker to the pile of clothes on the floor, to his guitar, but that was all he got to see before Grantaire pushed him over to his bed, tugging at his clothes as they went.

Things had changed a lot between them since their first time together, it had been rough and desperate then, back in Los Angeles, now it was gentle, almost loving.

Enjolras curled around him afterwards, lazily tracing lines across his skin. “Grantaire,” Enjolras muttered against his skin, pressing a few chaste kisses between his shoulder blades.

Grantaire indicated he was listening with a quiet hum and tilted his head back.

“When college starts again I won’t have a lot of time, I’ll start volunteering again and I’ll have to-”

With a sigh, Grantaire turned around to shut Enjolras up with a kiss. “We’ll manage.” He sounded so certain, he almost believed himself.

Grantaire snuck out in the morning to get some coffee and donuts, actually surprised that he was up before Enjolras. When he came back, Enjolras was still in bed, grinning at him. “I didn’t think you’d ever make it out of bed before me.”

Grantaire chuckled. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“Well, your bed is really comfortable, I think I’ll come back here soon.”

“I sure hope you will,” Grantaire said and handed the box with the donuts to Enjolras. “I got your favorites.”

“And I thought I couldn’t possibly like you more,” Enjolras mumbled as he bit into a donut.

Grantaire stared at him, blushing profusely. He tried to hide behind a donut, but he didn’t miss the twitch of Enjolras’ lips.

“So, are we just going to be really lazy all day?” Grantaire asked when they’d finished their breakfast.

“I’m not good at being lazy, you know that,” Enjolras replied and tugged at Grantaire’s shirt. “Maybe you should take that off.”

“I like your way of thinking,” Grantaire said and leaned over to kiss him.


	6. Chapter 6

Enjolras hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wouldn’t have much time once college started again. Even though Enjolras usually tried to make time for him on the weekends, Grantaire’s work schedule wasn’t so kind.

He got back his old job at the cinema and also picked up a couple of shifts at a café around the corner from college. Enjolras came to see him there every now and then, but Grantaire usually didn’t have time for more than a quick chat and a chaste kiss. And whereas it was great for his bank account, it really didn’t do anything good for his relationship with Enjolras.

When Grantaire had time he showed up at the meetings Enjolras held with his friends, where they talked about protests and rallies, things Grantaire didn’t even want to understand. His visits grew more and more infrequent because each of those meetings was followed by an argument and each argument was followed by several days of silence.

One time he found Enjolras sitting in front of his door after a demonstration with a bloody lip and a cut on his forehead, rusty-red stains on his shirtsleeve, eyes closed and wincing when Grantaire pulled him to his feet. “What the hell happened to you?”

“There were a few people who didn’t agree with me,” Enjolras mumbled, leaning heavily against Grantaire.

Grantaire gingerly tilted Enjolras’ face, so he could get a better look at the cuts. “Doesn’t look too bad.” He ushered Enjolras into his apartment and pushed him down onto his bed. “I’ll quickly clean those, okay? Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

“I wanted to see you,” Enjolras said, “and as you said, it’s not too bad.” Grantaire wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or happy that he’d chosen to come here.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No, I don’t have a concussion, if that’s why you’re asking.”

“Okay, I’m just checking,” Grantaire muttered, ignoring Enjolras’ little whimper when Grantaire tended to the cut on his forehead. “I have to work tonight, but you can stay here if you want…”

Enjolras nodded. “Sounds nice.”

“Good.” Grantaire carded his fingers through Enjolras’ hair, tugging only slightly, smiling when he leaned into his touch.

“When do you have to leave?”

Grantaire shrugged and pulled Enjolras back against his chest. “In a bit.” Actually, he didn’t want to leave at all and was very tempted to just call in sick, so he could spend the evening with Enjolras. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, mostly because Grantaire had felt like he was in the way when Enjolras had been planning that demonstration with his friends.

“Remember when you beat up that guy in Chicago for me?” Enjolras mumbled into Grantaire’s shirt. He sounded exhausted, like he was already half-asleep.

Grantaire lazily traced the line of Enjolras’ spine with his fingertips and smiled at the memory. “I do.”

Enjolras hummed. “I think…” he whispered, “Hm, I think that was when I fell in love with you.”Grantaire’s hand stilled. “Maybe…” Enjolras sighed. “Maybe it was a bit later, I don’t know. But I didn’t want to go anywhere without you.”

It was strange, even though Enjolras’ weight was quite heavy on his chest, Grantaire hardly felt it, everything felt impossibly light. He didn’t want to move ever again, and more importantly, he didn’t want to let go of Enjolras, not now, not ever.

He felt like he should say something, but he couldn’t bring his lips to move, all he could manage was to move his hand again, back up into Enjolras’ hair. He got a soft sigh from Enjolras in return.

Yeah, there was no way he’d make it to work today.

* * *

“You know I’d come if I could,” Enjolras was saying. “It’s not like I don’t want to see you, but something came up.”

Grantaire resisted the urge to just chuck his phone out of the window. “Something came up,” Grantaire echoed. He’d heard that one before. “ _Again_?”

“I’m really sorry, Grantaire.” He actually sounded like he meant it, but Grantaire really didn’t care at all.

“That’s what you keep saying,” Grantaire grit out.

“My work is important to me.” Again, he’d heard that before.

“I know that, I understand that, but your work will still be there tomorrow.”

“And you won’t be?” It sounded almost challenging.

Grantaire huffed angrily. “Of course I’ll be, not that I want to at the moment, but sure, I’ll be right here, waiting for you to make time for me in your oh so busy schedule.”

“I’m not the only who’s busy all the time,” Enjolras retorted, his tone a lot more aggravated than before. Enjolras was losing his patience and in most cases Grantaire knew that now was the time to stop, but not today.

“So it’s my fault that you’ve stood me up three times this week because _something came up_?”

“You know exactly that I wouldn’t have cancelled our plans if it hadn’t been something important.”

And sure, Grantaire knew that, but they hadn’t seen each other since Halloween and he was tired of fighting about the same thing over and over again. He fell silent, gave in for now, because there was no way they’d figure this out now.

This whole thing wasn’t getting easier.

“I have to go,” Enjolras said eventually. “We’ll talk about this. Soon.”

“When?” Grantaire asked. He was being childish, but he wanted an answer to that question more than anything. Truth be told, he missed Enjolras and he was starting to feel ridiculous, because he kept wearing one of Enjolras’ sweaters that was actually a little too small on him and he kept looking at pictures from last summer and kept nearly calling him even though he knew he was busy and wouldn’t be too happy about the interruption.

“ _Soon_ ,” Enjolras said, sounding impatient again. “I don’t know.”

“Call me tomorrow?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Grantaire whispered. Maybe _I love you_ would have been a better choice, but Enjolras had already hung up.

* * *

Saying that Grantaire was stressed probably was a bit of an understatement. He’d been at work for hours, his shift was almost over and he’d sold what seemed like gallons of coffee. It was Friday evening, people came in on their way home from work, and passersby came in to get something warm to drink.

It was snowing heavily and he really wasn’t looking forward to his journey back home.

He stared out the café’s window gloomily, knowing the snow would soak through his shoes before he’d made it halfway to the subway station. Everything would be delayed because of the snowfall.

He could take the subway to Enjolras’ and stay the night, his place was closer than Grantaire’s and he also had working central heating, which was something Grantaire couldn’t always say for his apartment. Enjolras had a paper to write, he knew that, but Grantaire wouldn’t be in the way, he’d just make himself comfortable in his bed and maybe leave more stupid post-it notes in Enjolras’ textbooks. Grantaire knew Enjolras had found them funny, although he’d never said so.

He fiddled with his phone for a while, not sure whether or not to call him, but eventually dialed his number. It couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Hello?” Enjolras answered, sounding a little breathless.

“It’s me,” Grantaire said, smiling at the sound of Enjolras’ voice. “I was just wondering,” he continued before Enjolras could say anything, “do you think I could stay at yours tonight? I know you’re busy, I won’t be annoying, I promise, I won’t try to distract you, you won’t even know I’m there. It’s just that it’s snowing like crazy and it’ll take me forever to get home and your place is much closer.” He took a deep breath. “Please?”

He heard Enjolras chuckle. “Sure, I’m on my way to the library at the moment, but Combeferre is home, I’ll let him know that you’re on your way.”

“Thank you, you’re wonderful,” Grantaire said happily.

Grantaire got a couple of cupcakes and donuts from the café and made his way to the nearest subway station. As predicted, his shoes were soaked through by the time he got there.

A tired-looking Combeferre opened the door for him. “Come in,” he said, eyeing his wet feet. “I’m sure Enjolras won’t mind if you borrow some dry clothes from him.”

Enjolras’ sweatpants weren’t exactly a loose fit, but at least he wasn’t stuck in his wet jeans anymore. He found Combeferre in the living room, flicking through the channels. “I made tea.” He gestured at the table, where Grantaire dropped the bag with the donuts.

“I brought food.” Grantaire sat down on the couch, feeling a little awkward. He hadn’t talked to Combeferre a lot, usually he was either gone or made sure not to disturb Enjolras and Grantaire.

“Enjolras texted me, he’s stuck in traffic.” Combeferre helped himself to a cupcake and grinned at Grantaire. “I told him the books could wait, but he said he had an idea and he needed to get them today.”

Grantaire chuckled. “Of course he did.” He silently ate a donut and watched the news with Combeferre. “How’s it going with your girlfriend?” he asked after a while. Grantaire had met her at a meeting once, but hadn’t really had the chance to get to know her better.

Enjolras had mentioned that he’d walked in on them arguing in the kitchen once and afterwards he’d taken off to hide at Grantaire’s. Combeferre didn’t seem to unhappy now, so Grantaire figured that things were going better between them.

“We broke up,” Combeferre said nonchalantly.

Apparently Grantaire had been wrong. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “It just didn’t work anymore.”

Sometimes Grantaire thought he’d be saying this about his relationship with Enjolras one day. Other times he felt like they’d spend the rest of their lives together, only those times were less frequent.

Enjolras came in through the door nearly an hour later and, as promised, Grantaire made sure not to distract him and tried to wait for him to be finished for today as patiently as he could. He must have fallen asleep at some point, though, because he woke up to Enjolras running his fingers through his curls.

“Why don’t you go ahead to bed, I won’t be too much longer,” Enjolras whispered.

Grantaire looked around, a little disorientated. Combeferre seemed to have gone to bed already. Grantaire only nodded sleepily and padded down the hall to Enjolras’ room.

True to his words, Enjolras slipped into bed next to him not too much later, wrapping his arms and legs around Grantaire, mumbling softly against his skin. “I’m glad you came over.”

“Me too,” Grantaire sighed.


	7. Chapter 7

“You fought again, didn’t you?”

Grantaire only nodded. He was on the verge of crying and also on the verge of doing something impossibly stupid. Cosette wouldn’t be able to fix him, but at least she’d distract him until he didn’t want to buy a bottle of vodka anymore. He was lucky that she was home, he was lucky that she didn’t mind him sobbing into her sofa cushions.

She tugged him inside and slammed the door shut before she pulled Grantaire into a bone-crushing hug. “It’s going to be fine, don’t worry.”

Grantaire sighed. “I just want to go back to when everything was okay.” Back to California.

“Can’t do that for you, sorry,” Cosette whispered. She led him over to the couch and wrapped a blanket around him. “You know I would if I could.”

Grantaire managed a smile. He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself.

“Talk if you want to,” Cosette said as she went to get some cookies for Grantaire. “I’m listening.”

Grantaire bit his lip. He wasn’t sure where to start. “Sometimes I think we need a break, you know. But we hardly see each other as it is, maybe it just doesn’t work out.” He shrugged. Saying it out loud didn’t make him feel particularly better. “But I can’t break up with him, because I hate not being with him.” The mere thought of never being with Enjolras again made him feel sick. He couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it, but it was only a matter of time until Enjolras would make that choice for him.

Cosette sighed unhappily. “You love him a lot, don’t you?”

Grantaire rubbed his eyes and said nothing. He did love him, but he couldn’t say it. He’d tried so many times, but he’d got so scared every time, the words had just died in his mouth.

He let Cosette pull him into another hug, hardly heard the soothing words she muttered into his ear, but he felt calmer now, and considerably less inclined to make a trip to the liquor store around the corner.

He left Cosette’s later that evening because there were some things for college he needed to work on. He’d tried to ignore his deadlines for as long as he could, but now they were looming over him like dark clouds.

Grantaire didn’t bother answering his phone and eventually turned it off when he went to bed. He also tried his best to ignore the insistent knocking on his door, knowing that it couldn’t be Cosette, because she’d just come barging in. Eventually he got annoyed, though, and went to yank the door open.

Enjolras looked a lot less angry than he had this morning, in fact, he mainly looked worried.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Grantaire wasn’t in the mood to play nice, it was past midnight, he was exhausted, and whatever it was, it could wait until the morning. He wasn’t ready to talk yet and this probably would just end with another argument anyway.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Enjolras answered calmly. “Do you mind if I come in?”

Grantaire stepped aside to let him in, Cosette surely wouldn’t thank him if he started fighting with his boyfriend in the hallway in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Enjolras said and slipped off his coat.

“I know you are.” Grantaire watched him sit down at the edge of his bed. “So am I. We’re always sorry afterwards, but that doesn’t change that we fight in the first place. I don’t want to fight anymore, Enjolras.”

“I know, I’m a horrible boyfriend,” Enjolras mumbled. Grantaire wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen him look so sad, so completely and utterly defeated. “I’m really trying, believe me, I just keep doing everything wrong.”

“You’re not the only one who’s doing things wrong.”

Enjolras wordlessly held out his hand to him, and Grantaire went to take it. He always would as long as Enjolras wanted him to.

“Can I stay?” Enjolras asked, intertwining their fingers.

“Of course.”

* * *

Grantaire hadn’t felt this happy in weeks. He’d turned in his last assignment this morning, then he’d met Enjolras for lunch and they’d been strolling around the city since. Enjolras had barely let go of his hand all day. Not that Grantaire was complaining.

Things were fine for once, the only thing Enjolras was grumpy about was that he’d have to go home the following day for some huge Christmas dinner, and was listing the most annoying characteristics of all his cousins. His family sounded horrible in their very own way. Grantaire was glad that they’d decided that he wouldn’t come.

Enjolras’ parents didn’t know he had a boyfriend, they didn’t even know he was gay and he didn’t exactly want to break it to them by bringing Grantaire over for the holidays. Grantaire had told him that he’d rather stay at home anyway, he wasn’t a fan of big families and big dinner parties, so for once they’d agreed on something.

It felt a little more than it had when they’d first met, when they’d argued about avocados and radio stations, jokingly and good-heartedly. Not a single door had been slammed in two weeks, neither of them had raised his voice. But the feeling that it wouldn’t last lingered somehow. They were always one word away from a fight and one fight away from calling it a day once and for all.

“I’m going to come back as soon as I can,” Enjolras was saying, “then we can spend a couple of days in bed.”

“A couple of days?” Grantaire asked, chuckling. He wasn’t opposed to the idea, not at all, especially because he’d managed to get two weeks off from both of his jobs and he intended to spend every free minute with Enjolras.

A snowflake landed on Grantaire’s nose and Enjolras brushed it off, then he leaned in to kiss him. “We can get up to eat every now and then,” he mumbled against Grantaire’s lips.

They wandered through Central Park for a while until Enjolras started dragging him towards the subway. “I should get going, I still have some work to do and I have to get up early tomorrow morning.”

“It’s December 23rd, how the hell do you still have work to do?” Grantaire grumbled. They had this one evening before Enjolras would take off to his parents’ and Grantaire had somehow expected to have Enjolras to himself all day.

“I always have work to do,” Enjolras said lightly.

Grantaire nudged him. “I know that, how about you take one evening off?”

“I can’t, it’s important, Grantaire.” People who hardly knew Enjolras wouldn’t have noticed the slight change in his voice, but Grantaire knew it well enough, it was the tone he used when he thought Grantaire was being unnecessarily difficult.

Grantaire stopped dead and let go of Enjolras’ hand. “I get that,” he said slowly, “all I’m asking for is one evening.”

“You obviously _don’t_ get it,” Enjolras said and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You think what I do is good for nothing anyway, it’s not like you’re making a big secret of it.”

“Oh for god’s sake, why the hell did you have to bring that up again?”

“Because apparently you don’t give a shit that these are things I care about,” Enjolras snapped.

“What about me then?” Grantaire asked quietly.

Enjolras’ face fell. “You know that I care about you, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, of course, I’m being ridiculous again,” Grantaire hissed. Tears were welling up in his eyes and he really didn’t feel like talking anymore, so he just stomped off to the subway station. It wasn’t the best course of action, but the only one that seemed suitable right now.

Enjolras caught up with him in no time. “What the hell is your problem, Grantiare?”

Grantaire stopped walking again. He didn’t care that he was crying in fucking Central Park, didn’t care that Enjolras looked at him with a mix of anger and worry, god, how did he even do that, he didn’t really care about anything anymore. “You know what,” he said, his whole body shaking, “sometimes I wish I’d never got in that goddamned car of yours.” That was it, the thought that had been plaguing him for so long. Maybe he’d be better off if they’d never met.

Enjolras opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out, he just stared down at Grantaire, his lips parted, completely frozen.

“Maybe…” Grantaire shrugged helplessly. He still couldn’t do it, he couldn’t say _Enjolras, this isn’t working_ , it would fucking break him. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

Only a while to sort out his thoughts, to figure out what he wanted, just some time for both of them to calm down.

“If that’s what you want.” He sounded so hurt, it was almost enough for Grantaire to take it all back and to kiss him and tell him that he was just being stupid, that it wasn’t what he wanted, that they’d be fine.

But Grantaire only shrugged. “I guess it’s for the best.”

“Call me when you…” Enjolras trailed off, but Grantaire nodded, he understood. Enjolras squeezed his hand one more time before he walked off in the opposite direction.

Grantaire watched him walk away, biting his lip, keeping himself from calling out, from asking Enjolras to come back. “Merry Christmas,” Grantaire muttered eventually, still staring at Enjolras, who hadn’t looked back once.

Grantaire went straight home, thinking about all the times he’d found Enjolras at his doorstep, waiting for him to get home, so he could apologize. No one was there this time. Enjolras didn’t call. Enjolras didn’t show up.

* * *

“Well, you look miserable,” Cosette said dryly when she came walking into Grantaire’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

“You mean more miserable than when I cried on your couch all night?” he asked. The number of times he’d ended up on Cosette’s couch during the last couple of months was slightly disconcerting. Maybe this was really for the best, maybe they needed to be away from each other for a bit.

Surprisingly, he’d managed to get a grip on the situation, mainly by lying to himself and telling himself that this wasn’t actually the end of the world, that he’d seen this coming for weeks, that he wouldn’t even mind if he never saw Enjolras again, that he’d forget him just as quickly as he’d fallen in love with him.

It wasn’t working well, but at least he wasn’t as much of a mess anymore. He’d picked up his guitar to busy his fingers, playing Christmas songs he’d thought he’d long forgotten.

Cosette gave him a pitiful look, one that he didn’t like one bit. “You can come to my dad’s with me, he won’t mind, he likes you,” Cosette offered. “I hate leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Grantaire said. It didn’t feel like a lie, even though it probably was one.

“Will you?” She sat down next to him, staring him down. “You know, Marius is coming as well, he’d be grateful not to have all attention on him.”

Grantaire snorted and continued playing.

“I just gave you another reason to stay here, didn’t I?”

Grantaire nodded. “I honestly think I’ll be having a better time here, I’ll try to make dinner without burning the house down and then I’ll watch stupid Christmas films. Even though I’m sure that Marius and your dad will put on a great show.”

“You’re going to miss out,” she insisted. “Anyway, call me if you need me, alright?”

“I will,” he promised.

“Liar,” Cosette whispered, but didn’t otherwise say anything, just listened to him play for a while, until Marius poked his head in through the door.

“There you are,” he called and waved at Grantaire. “Hey, Grantaire, nice to see you again.”

Grantaire nodded at him, fingers still plucking at the strings of his guitar. “Merry Christmas, ‘Aire,” Cosette muttered and ruffled his curls before she took Marius by the hand and they were off.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Grantaire mumbled when the door fell shut.

Grantaire thought Cosette had forgotten something when the door opened again a few minutes later. When he looked up he found Enjolras standing in the doorway. Snowflakes were melting in his hair, his cheeks were flushed and he was out of breath, he’d probably run up the steps to his apartment.

Grantaire scrambled to his feet and looked at him questioningly. What the hell was _he_ doing here?

Enjolras took a deep breath. “Don’t say anything, okay?”

Grantaire nodded. He didn’t remember how to speak anyway. Who the fuck was he kidding, there was no way he’d ever manage a week without Enjolras.

“I’m really sorry,” Enjolras began, taking a step towards Grantaire. “And maybe you were right and I’m also sorry for just showing up here.” He swallowed. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

Enjolras’ fingers snuck around his wrist, tentatively, almost as if he was scared that Grantaire would pull away. There was something in Enjolras’ eyes that was usually reserved for passionate rants, a fire that burned as bright as his beliefs.

“Come away with me,” he said softly. “Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Riiight that's it then.  
> I have a vague plan for Part 3.  
> (Maybe I'll manage to write the first chapter during the next couple of days, we'll see.)  
> (Thanks so much for reading.) (Thanks for the kudos and comments, too.)


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